Ghost Writer(45)

Since I had them handy, I read the letters.



Dear Mary Lou,

Gosh, I miss you sweetie. Been days—feels like forever. Didn't think it would be so hard. Keep expecting you to wake me up in the morning to walk the dog. Love that time of day with you, when your mom and brother're still asleep and it's just you and me and Puddles. When I get home, that's the first thing I want to do. You and me, we'll take Puddles to the park. After, we'll all go to the diner for bacon and eggs. You can have pancakes. When I get tired of living in this sardine can, that's what keeps me going.

Love, Daddy

PS: Give my love to Mommy.



There were more like that. Short letters, written every couple of days, talking about projected outings and things they'd do when he got home. Then they stopped.

I skimmed the few letters to Boreman's son, Ray. They were written in block letters, using short words and simple concepts. They were typical of the kind of letter you write to a child who is learning to read. The letters to his wife weren't much different.



Hey sweetheart,

Miss you guys so much. I know you didn't want me to go. You've given up a lot for me. I'll make it up to you when I get home. Promise.

Lou



I looked through the photos. Most of them were of Mary Lou with or without her mother. A couple were of Lou Boreman posing with cars. In one, his arm was draped across the shoulders of a young man who was leaning into him, just a hair's-breadth. There were cars and a trophy in the shot as well my eye was drawn to the young man and the proprietary way that Boreman looked down at him. I remembered when Will looked at me like that.

“I don't care what was in that letter. Boreman wasn't a degenerate. He was a man in love. And more than anything, he loved his daughter.” I held up the photos of Lou and lover, and Lou and daughter. “He might not have been a good husband, but this is not a bad man.”

Minton mouthed, ‘I know.’



Lil came to fetch me for dinner. “Don't tell me you're not eating because that won't do. You've been cooped up here all afternoon. Besides, we're starting a new euchre tournament tonight.”

It was so calm, I had forgotten I was at sea. Food sounded good. Company sounded good too, especially the company of the living. I tidied away my work and, because I was learning to be cautious, I locked Minton's journal in the cabin safe.

Gravell was at dinner. It was interesting watching him win over the team again. He wasn’t as cheery as he had been before they knew he was a government agent, but not as serious as he acted aboard the Nottawasaga. Being a spy seemed to add to his allure. In any case, he suddenly had the admiring attention of Tracy and Lil.

I grabbed a plate and loaded it up with Spanish rice, salmon kebabs, and fresh tomato slices that came, no doubt, from the Nottawasaga's shipment of fresh food. There was a space between Mike and Jamal, directly across from Gravell, who was bracketed by Lil and Tracy. I took it. Without dropping the thread of his conversation with the women, Gravell acknowledged my presence with a nod and a moment of eye contact that conveyed welcome, and an invitation to share his enjoyment of the situation.

Later, he manoeuvred things so that I was partnered with him for euchre. There was no ulterior motive I could discern for him doing this, so I chose to be flattered by the attention. In fact, I received a lot of flattering and solicitous attention throughout the evening. I suppose it was my brush with death, but suddenly I had been pushed into the limelight, out of my comfort zone.

In all, it was one of the most pleasant evenings I had enjoyed since leaving home. Naturally, it was the calm before the storm.

Gravell and I were four points away from winning our latest game, and I had a strong hand. Right and left bowers, two off-suit aces, and a nine of trumps sat in my hand. The ace was turned up and it was my partner's deal. If Gravell picked up the ace, we could potentially get all the tricks. Or I could order him up and try for four points.

Minton showed up, looking worried. At first I thought it was disapproval at me playing cards, then I got the message.

“Pick it up,” I told my partner. “I'm going alone.”

As chance would have it, the remaining ace was led, which I trumped. I swept up my trick and plopped down the two bowers. I got the last two tricks just before the storm hit.





Chapter Twenty-Three ~ The Storm



The warning bell sounded. The speakers gave a squawk of feedback. Then we heard Captain Franchot’s voice. “All hands on deck.”

Gravell stood. “I need to go. Stay here. Make sure everyone else stays put and listens to Cookie.”

I nodded.

“I’ll come too,” said Mike. “Once a swabby, always a swabby.”

As soon as they left I looked around and took in the varying degrees of fear evident on the team’s faces.

“Let’s clear everything up. Everything loose should be secured. Tracy and Jamal, you take care of that. Mary Lou, you and I will batten the hatches.”

Two weeks at sea and I was picking up the jargon. I wasn’t sure if we were actually battening hatches, but we were making sure the portholes were latched.

We had everything done by the time Cookie poked his head in to tell us to do the very same thing.

“Need any help in the kitchen?” asked Mary Lou.